A Game of Hide and Sorrow
by SerenLyall
Summary: As the sun begins to set, turning the summer sky from azure to star-strewn violet, yet Elrond and Elros are nowhere to be found. As he searches for the wayward boys, Maglor begins to realize just what the twin sons of Earendil and Elwing have come to mean to him.


**Disclaimer:** The Silmarillion is not mine, nor are any characters thus related to the Silmarillion. They belong to the Tolkien Estate. I am merely enjoying playing around in the beautiful world that Tolkien created.

The cover art for this fic is also not mine. It was done by the lovely cloudsarechibi on tumblr. In fact, it was the art that inspired this piece of writing. If you'd like to look at their fanart, just go to cloudsarechibi dot tumblr dot com backslash fanart.

**Rating/Warnings:** K+ for mild themes, slight insanity, and references to violence.

**Time frame:** Within a year of the Third Kinslaying, and Elrond and Elros's capture by Maglor and Maedhros.

**A/N:** I was perusing tumblr the other day when I saw an amazing piece of fanart about Elrond and Elros. The artist had given a brief backstory, about the twins playing hide and seek and getting lost, and then waiting for Maglor to find them, only to fall asleep. The Muse bit me, and I just _had _to write something. So, long story short, I talked to the artist and got permission to write something and to use their art, and voila! This was written.

To anyone who is waiting for updates on any of my other fics, they are coming. Slowly. Very slowly. But I'm working on Poisoned Star right now. Life is just extraordinarily hectic and crazy busy and just...well, a mess in general. Speaking of which, I know I've said this a number of times, but truly, any feedback would really brighten my day. I'd _love _to hear from you, even just a simple "I liked it" or what have you. However, the absolute most important thing is that I hope you enjoy the story.

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**A Game of Hide and Sorrow**

The sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon, the bottom edge just brushing the crown of the highest hill standing to the west of Himring. Maglor's gaze skipped to the window beside his desk for the third time in almost as many minutes, his steel-grey eyes flicking toward the glimpse of summer sky. The late afternoon air was hazy with warmth, clouds scudding across the heavens like tumbling sheep. Yet the western horizon was just beginning to gleam with the first traces of gold, thin veins of orange and scarlet appearing at the edges of the clouds.

The ink-stained pen idled in Maglor's hand, his fingers twisting the quill in a slow circle as his thoughts fled far from the letter he was penning.

_"The twins should have come in by now,"_ he thought, not for the first time.

At some point in the year since Elrond and Elros had come to Himring, it had become tradition that, as soon as the sun began to dip toward its slumber behind the hills, and the sky began to darken, the twins would search out their caretaker. They would latch onto his legs (Elros on the left, Elrond on the right), and there they would cling, holding tight to his shins no matter what Maglor did until he picked them up and carried them down to dinner.

At first he had always stiffened when they would do it, and had purposefully attempted to shake or even pry them off. He had succeeded only once, managing to send Elrond tumbling to the ground with a particularly violent kick of his leg. But since then – since seeing Elrond's silent look of hurt and reproach, his eyes curiously dry despite the pain he must have felt from hitting his head against the wall (the sight had left Maglor feeling strangely empty, as if an echo was dancing across the barren stone walls of an empty tomb) – Maglor had given in and allowed the children their game.

If he was being completely honest with himself (not something he often was these days), he would admit that he even enjoyed it.

But tonight, the twins had not come.

Maglor stood up from his chair, leaving the quill lying forgotten on the half-finished letter, and then strode briskly to the door leading out into the corridor. For half a heartbeat, as he reached for the latch, Maglor almost half expected to see the twins sitting on the floor just on the other side of the door as he opened it, waiting to pounce on his legs when he appeared, their silver eyes dancing and hands clapped over their mouths to keep from giggling.

(And whether or not he believed, just for an instant, that the twins had red hair instead of black, he would never say.)

He opened the door, but only empty stone hall lit by flickering torches met Maglor's sweeping gaze. An unexpected knot tightened in Maglor's stomach as a sense of emptiness washed over him, and he suddenly found himself wondering just when the twin sons of the woman he had tried to kill had become so important to him.

He shook the thought away like one would brush away a dew-dripped spider web, and took a firm step out into the corridor. Perhaps Idhremith had coaxed them into the kitchens with the promise of a pastry, Maglor mused, for the first time not entirely disapprovingly. At least they would be safe under the young cook's watchful smile.

The twins were not in the kitchens, nor were they anywhere else in the fortress that Maglor could find. As the minutes stretched on and the children remained missing, Maglor's concern – and his ire – began to grow. He had far better things to do than hunt for his wayward charges. More than that, they should _know _better than to wander off like that and get themselves lost; for surely that was the only explanation, Maglor decided, as at last he took to the gardens. He could think of no other reason that they would have hidden from him purposefully.

They had done so often when they first had come to Himring, disappearing for hours at a time only to be found wedged in a dark corner or high in a tree branch, fast asleep or talking quietly in their own gibberish of a language. They had quickly learned however, that doing so would result in being sent straight to bed without supper, and even if Elrond was not always inclined to eat even when he _was_ at the table, it was clear that Elros _did _care, enough even that Elrond would go along so that his twin would not be sent to bed hungry.

The light was beginning to fail as Maglor descended the steps and struck out into the tangled gardens. The sun was well and truly setting now, and although the sky remained light, the towering walls that surrounded the fortress were casting a deep shadow across the grounds. Maglor quickened his pace subconsciously, the urge to find the boys before dark fell urging him on.

The sky was beginning to bleed from summer blue to dusky violet, the first of the stars winking to life like silver fireflies in the darkening heavens, when Maglor at last found the twins. He was skirting a thicket of ferns and interwoven shrubs growing deep in the wood that stood between the house and the southern wall, when he heard a faint whisper come from up above him, then from all around. He stopped, his attention honing in on the song echoing nimbly all around.

He had heard it before, this warbling, whispering song, but it was not often that the trees spoke to him. He had heard it more often _Then_, in the Before, when laughter was still joy, and fire only meant warmth and light. But even Then the trees had not often chosen to speak to him first, only responding to his own welcoming song.

But they were singing to him now.

He brushed back the thick screen of fern and branches and there, curled up beneath the shelter of a particularly twisted bush festooned with deep pink flowers, lay Elrond and Elros fast asleep, just as the trees had told him. They were lying facing each other, hands twined and hair spread out beneath their heads like halos of shadow against the verdant grass, the small blanket that they often carried with them whenever they went on "adventures" draped across their shoulders.

Maglor knelt, and then reached out to shake them gently awake.

They opened their eyes _("Such a peculiar trait of theirs,"_ Maglor thought, _"sleeping with their eyes closed. Like they are dead." _And for half of a breath, as he reached down to them, he almost expected their heads to loll limply and crimson blood to stain his palms), and then sat up. Elrond rubbed a fist against his eyes, and Elros yawned.

And then they were both speaking at once, their voices blending and mixing into one, though it sounded as if there was an echo for one twin was half a syllable behind the other. "We are sorry Maglor!"

And then Elros was speaking. "We were playing hide and seek…"

"And then got lost."

"Everything looked the same you see…"

"And the leaves were too thick so we couldn't see the tower…"

"And so we thought we would wait…"

"Because we knew you would come find us."

It was so simple. So innocent.

So trusting.

They had honestly believed that he would come looking for them. That he, Maglor Fëanorian, would come and save them.

"Please don't be angry with us?"

That was Elrond. Elrond, who always seemed like the quieter of the two, even as Elros always came across as the Protector. Elrond, who hadn't cried since he had seen his mother throw herself from a cliff top to what she had thought was her death. Elrond, who had kept himself distant from everyone save his twin brother.

Elrond, who would say the words his brother was afraid to.

Elrond who, in that moment, reached for Maglor.

And Maglor found himself reaching out instinctively in response, and then he was lifting the small boy up into his arms. "No, I am not angry," he said softly. _"Only worried."_ (But he did not say that aloud. For he would only admit that if he was being completely honest with himself, and it had been a long time since he had been that.) "Come though, I am sure that it is high time for supper."

Elros bounced to his feet and over to Maglor's side, the blanket in one hand. He lifted his arms pleadingly, and almost before he realized what he was doing, Maglor was bending down to lift the second twin up as well.

They settled against him, Elrond laying his head in the crook between Maglor's neck and shoulder, and Elros wrapping his arms around Maglor's throat, the blanket dangling down the tall Elf's back. Maglor could sense as the twins linked hands, even if he could not see it.

And something like a smile graced his lips.


End file.
